


Veronique

by mariadperiad20



Category: Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse (2018)
Genre: Introspection, Jazz Music, Noir dances with a woman, Slow Dancing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-31
Updated: 2019-06-06
Packaged: 2019-12-29 00:47:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18297050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mariadperiad20/pseuds/mariadperiad20
Summary: Noir dances with a woman, and realizes he’s imagining what it would be like to feel Peter so close.Inspiration: Veronique by Pink MartiniRequest fic by @knightlypoe on tumblr! Thank you for your request!





	1. Chapter 1

Noir is sitting in a dimly lit bar, drink in one hand, tapping a finger against the wooden counter with the other. He watched boredly as dames clad in the colors of gray moved around the floor, led by men in dark suits to the tune of the band’s jazz. MJ was at the stage, he knew, crooning away in her sweet voice, in her long gloves and tight dress. The bar was always full when she was performing, that was for sure. He loved hearing her sing, it always seemed to bring comfort to the poor folks around him, just looking to survive the week.

Noir felt someone watching him, flicking his eyes towards the origin, ready for a fight if needed. He relaxed once his gaze caught that of a woman’s, eyeing him over her drink. To her credit, she didn’t look away the moment he saw her, instead tilting her head towards the empty seat next to her, a silent invitation. Her hair swished to the side slightly as she moved, dark and alluring. Welcoming.

Noir stood smoothly, slipping past the mass of bodies and customers to reach her table. She smiled at him, mouth colored dark with lipstick, as he sat beside her, tilting his hat in greeting.

“Mind if I join you?”

“Not at all. I was feeling a bit lonely,” She says, picking up her drink and taking a sip.

“Well, it’s not good for a lady to be all by herself,” Noir replied, “Especially not on a night like this.”

“Good thing I’m not by myself now, then, am I?” She reached out a white gloved hand to gently take the hat off of his head, placing it on the table inbetween them.

“Indeed you are not.” He glanced towards the floor, where the amount swaying bodies seemed only to have increased, before turning back to her. “Would you care for a dance?”

“With a gentleman like you, certainly.” She tilted her head down, looking up at him through her eyelashes, and he let a small smile grace his face, getting to his feet and holding out a hand. She took it instantly, rising from her chair gracefully. She was a bit shorter than him, head not coming up to his shoulders, even in her heeled shoes. As he led her across the dance floor, MJ’s song ended, switching to another, slightly slower one.

Noir turned, the woman wrapping an arm around his shoulder, his hand automatically going to her waist. It wasn’t his first time dancing with a beautiful woman, and she was clearly practiced as well. They moved through the crowd like it wasn’t even there, swaying and stepping in near-perfect synchrony. Her heeled shoes matched his booted ones step for step.

Noir held out his arm, and she spun underneath it, skirt flying out in a swirl of glittering gray. She was beautiful, but Noir couldn’t help but wonder that, if their world was in color, what her dress would be. Maybe it would be red, bright and sensuous, drawing a man’s gaze from across the room, ready to burn anyone who came too close. Or, perhaps, it would be blue, deep and inviting and asking him to come over and drown himself in her arms. And maybe, just maybe, it would be a mix of both, enticing and gaining every man’s attention, drawing them in to her shimmering existence.

As the spin ended, and she tucked herself back into his arms, a bit closer now than before, tilting her head up to look him in the eyes. Her hand, even through their gloves, was slight, delicate, an almost unnoticeable presence against his own. It wasn’t bad per se, but Noir wished that the hand he held could be a bit firmer, a bit more… there.

As they began stepping back and forth once more, Noir idly questioned if any of the other spiders could dance like this. He couldn’t really picture any of the kids here, they were too young to know anyway, and Ham didn’t seem the type. Peter, though, he would bet that Peter knew how to dance. Dance for real, like this, with someone on his arm and a song in his ears.

Noir could picture himself showing Peter how to dance to jazz, showing him where to place his hands and how to move his feet. Peter would hold his hand tight, afraid of stepping on his feet. He would wear some shade of red or blue, Noir knew, something bright and captivating and oh so flattering.

Peter would laugh, a little nervously, as Noir showed him how to spin. But Peter would spin under his arm anyway, coming back around to face him a little breathless and surprised, and then demand that Noir do the same.

Noir missed a step, and quickly corrected himself, flashing a small, apologetic smile at the woman.

“I’ve heard of the heart skipping beats, but not feet.” She returned the smile.

“I was distracted by my company.” Noir shrugged.

“Well, if I have you that distracted, maybe I should lead.” She joked, running her hand along his back gently.

“I don’t think I’d be able to fit under your arm to spin.” Peter would be able to spin him, he was sure of it. They were close enough to the same height, and he could always duck if he had to.

She laughed, light and amused, “Alas, I had to go for the tallest man in the room, didn’t I?” She leaned forward, resting her head against his chest as they swayed in comfortable silence.

Noir could feel the weight of her head on his chest, she smelled of liquor and roses. It was not uncommon, given the setting, and Noir didn’t mind it. He did, however, know that he preferred the smell of coconut, a fruit that Peter had introduced to him a while ago, to the scent of roses. It wasn’t quite as sweet, and something about it made Noir feel happy.

MJ’s voice slowly faded away, the last few notes playing before stopping as well, the song now complete. The woman lifted her head up off his chest, regretfully moving half a step back from him so that they could make their way off the dance floor. People were applauding MJ, it had been her final song of the night. She vanished away, and the band struck up another, albeit instrumental, jazz number.

They moved back to their table, drinks having long since vanished into some passing man’s stomach. The woman doesn’t seem to mind, striding forward a few paces ahead of Noir to get to the table first, scooping up his hat into her hands. She turned around, sultry smile on her face. Noir stops, watches as she moves forward, as close as they had been when dancing, maybe even a touch closer, reaching up to place the hat back onto his head.

“There.” She said, sliding her hands down the side of his face and slipping down his shoulders, before pulling away. Noir envisioned another pair of eyes, dark brown instead of light gray, locked with his, the same motion but with callused hands and a cocky smile, instead of a sensual one.

“Walk me to the door?” She asked, picking up a coat into her arms from where it had rested on her chair. As they walked to the door, she fastened it around herself, concealing her gray dress and pale legs away into a dark covering.

Noir reached the door, and held it open for her. The woman stopped in front of it, pausing. “Just so you know, I don’t have to be lonely later tonight, either. If you want.”

Noir’s fingers clenched harder on the door edge. If it had been someone else, someone clad in bright colors, maybe he would have said yes. But instead it was just the woman, with gray eyes and dark clothes and white gloves.

“It’s not very often I find someone as… captivating, as you.” That was a lie, though, wasn’t it? He knew people more captivating than her. She was a beautiful woman, looking for a night of dancing and promises and skin. He knew villains, and heroes, and people with histories that were his future, people who had eyes that had colors inside them. He knew Peter B. Parker, a man with the same name who was so, so different from him.

“But you’re not interested.” She finished for him, looking somewhat disappointed.

“I’m sorry.” Noir said, tipping his hat down. “I’m just not looking for a dame right now.”

“Well, it was worth a shot. Guess I’ll have to come back some other time, when you are looking.” She shot him a wink, heading out the door that Noir was still holding open.

Noir hesitated, before saying, “I don’t believe you ever told me your name.”

She paused, turning back around to shoot him a soft smile. No seduction, no attempt at anything more, just a smile. “It’s Ruth.”

And as she vanished away into the night, Noir found himself wishing her name had been Peter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright guys, this was my first request fic, so I hope it came out well! I was really excited to try to write for someone, and I’m really glad knightlypoe gave me the opportunity! Thank you, and I hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> If you read this fic and was like “wow, that was good!" please kudo/comment. If you want to request a fic, head over to tumblr (same username!)


	2. Chapter 2

Noir stumbled into Peter’s dimension. It was all bright colors, blinding and almost painful in its overwhelming presence. He closed the portal behind him, shooting a web and slinging up onto a roof.

Peter had sent out an alert asking for backup a few minutes earlier, just as Noir had been about to order another drink and congratulate MJ on another night well done. He had immediately dropped everything and come over here, stopping only long enough to make sure no one would see him opening the portal.

A part of him rationalized that it was strictly for convenience. After all, Peter needed help, and that was all there was to it. Another part of him, however, the part that kept flitting back to just a little bit earlier, dancing with Ruth, made him want to see Peter. Whether it was to remind himself that his thoughts of Peter were just late-night musings, or to confirm them, he wasn’t entirely sure.

Tracking Peter was easy enough, Noir simply following the sound of sirens along the roofs. The flashing red and blue lights hurt Noir’s eyes, harsh and blinding.

When Noir did see Peter, he was in his suit, standing casually in the road. A few people, presumably bad guys, were webbed to the wall of a building behind him. Noir dropped down, Peter’s spidey sense kicking up and turning to face him.

“Noir!” Peter said, voice light and cheerful. “You’re a welcome surprise. What brings you here?”

“I…” Noir held up his goober mutely, “You sent an SOS.”

“Hm? Oh, yeah,” Peter chuckled, “I completely forgot to cancel that. It was a false alarm, turned out to just be a small gang messing around with some fake bombs. Sorry to waste your time coming all the way over here.”

The flashing red and blue was now, thankfully, to Noir’s back, helping to ease the headache he felt building from just how bright it was. Peter’s suit colors were bright, too, but seemed soothing to Noir. The red and blue of Peter’s suit was grounding in its familiarity, and Noir found himself fixing onto it.

“Oh, uh, it’s no problem. I don’t mind.” Noir replied, shrugging. “Your universe is… colorful. It’s a welcome change.”

Peter looked taken aback. “I… I didn’t realize you missed it.”

“It’s alright. I don’t mind.” Noir shrugged again. He was doing that a lot, he noticed. “My universe has its charm.”

“I’ll have to drop by sometime. If you want.”

“Sounds jake.”

This was awkward. This was so, terribly awkward. Peter seemed completely at ease, chatting away, mask in place, and Noir was standing there, practically choking over every sentence. He wanted to just… do something. He hoped that seeing Peter would clear things up, but it only left him more confused than before. He still wanted to know if… if what he felt was real. Peter was staring at him, and Noir still couldn’t get the thought of dancing out of his head.

“You okay, buddy? You’re-” Peter began.

“Do you dance?” Noir blurted out, seemingly out of nowhere.

Peter’s mask was on, but Noir could hear the smile in his voice. “Sometimes, yeah. I’m not winning any awards, but I can manage myself on the floor just fine.”

“That’s… good.”

“Yeah? Glad you think so. Do you?”

“Oh, uh, yeah. Yeah, I do. MJ sings at a bar and I, uh, I’m pretty good.”

Peter looked over Noir’s shoulder, then grimaced.

“Oh, shoot, I forgot the police still hate me right now. C’mon.”

“Wha-?” Noir began to turn, but Peter webbed a nearby streetlight, launching himself into the air.

“Let’s book it. Follow me.”

Noir shrugged, and followed suit.

They swung around until the police sirens faded away, Peter coming to a stop next to a slightly ajar apartment windowsill.

“Home sweet home,” Peter announced, before slipping in.

Noir followed after him, taking off his hat as he entered and holding it in his gloved hand. Peter swung the curtains closed, then pulled off his mask with a flourish.

Peter’s room was moderately colorful, splashes of bright on surprisingly mellow walls. It was by no means as monochrome as Noir’s world was, but it strangely reminded him of it just the same.

“Sorry about the interruption.” Peter said over his shoulder, pouring a couple glasses of water. “The police just reformed their Spiderman patrol after… well, that doesn’t matter.” He handed Noir a glass, leaning against his kitchen counter. He was disheveled, five o’clock shadow forming against his face, but the bags under his eyes weren’t as bad as they had been before. His brown eyes were clear, and he seemed to hold himself a little bit taller.

Peter noticed Noir staring, and laughed. “Oh, yeah, I know, I know. Looks like I finally got over the divorce crisis just to fall flat into the midlife one, right?”

“You look great.”

Noir hadn’t meant to say it out loud, but the words rang true. He looked away, fiddling with his hat, before placing it onto the counter next to them.

“Ah, well, thanks.” Peter grinned, “You’re looking pretty ‘swell’ yourself, if you don’t mind me saying.”

“I don’t mind at all.” Noir said softly, taking to fiddling with his gloves now. He was twitchy, wanting to speak but not sure what to say. Peter, to his credit, didn’t seem to mind, instead taking a long sip, eyes flitting across Noir’s face.

“So, uh, why’d you ask me about being able to dance?”

Noir raised an eyebrow, surprised by the sudden question. “Well, I was… just looking for a good dance partner, I suppose.”

“I see.”

Noir kept fiddling with his gloves, suddenly unable to speak. How, after all, could he explain? That the woman kept reminding Noir of Peter, and how every step they took was one he wanted to do again, with him? Being here only proved to Noir all the things he couldn’t have.

It was a mistake, coming here. Noir shouldn’t have done this.

“I should be going, I think.” Noir said finally, reaching for his hat. Peter reached out as well, catching his hand.

“Well, do you still need a dance partner?” Peter asked, “I’d be more than happy to offer my shoes for the job.”

Noir wasn’t sure what to do. He wanted to stay, so badly that it almost hurt. He had the chance to dance with Peter, to feel his hand in his and… everything. All of it. But Noir wanted to leave, too. He didn’t want to stay and be disappointed. It was easier to run. As Noir looked at Peter, though, he felt the urge to stay overwhelm his fears.

After all, it was just a dance.

“I would like that.” Noir replied, dropping his hat and turning his hand so it was offered, upturned, to Peter’s.

“I’ll get the music.” Peter said, fiddling with a device - a phone, Noir remembered - and pressed some buttons.

Jazz music began playing out of it, and Peter placed it to the side, next to Noir’s hat. It wasn’t a song Noir was familiar with, but it sounded nice just the same.

“There we go.” Peter said awkwardly, before taking Noir’s, still uplifted, hand.

Noir walked backwards, letting his spidey sense help him avoid tripping over anything, so that they were standing in the middle of Peter’s living room.

Peter placed his other hand on Noir’s shoulder, and Noir put his on Peter’s waist. They stood there for a moment, Peter still in his red and blue Spiderman suit, and Noir in his black coat and glasses, before beginning to move. Peter picked it up quickly enough, although he had a tendency to misjudge the distances of his steps.

As they began to slow dance to the sound of whatever musician this was, Peter squeezed Noir’s hand in his, calloused fingers felt even through the suit gloves.

“I do hope I’m doing this right.” Peter said jokingly, as he stepped on Noir’s feet yet again.

“Absolutely.” Noir breathed back, more than a bit astounded at… all of this. Peter on his arm, dancing with him like it was the most natural thing in the world. In the universe. It just felt… right, to him.

“Would you like to spin?” Noir asked.

“Only if you do it, too.” Peter replied.

Noir lifted up his hand, and Peter, with barely a hesitation, spun underneath it, coming back around, grin sliding onto his face.

“That was way more fun than it has any right to be.” Peter said, grin still in place. “Your turn.”

Noir spun underneath Peter, having to duck his head slightly to avoid hitting his head on Peter’s arm. When he ended up back in place, he found himself much closer to Peter, a few precious inches less distance than before. Peter didn’t seem to mind, still smiling up at Noir as they continued to sway.

“This is nice.” Peter said finally, cocking his head to the side. “You are a much better dancer than me, though. You might want a partner whose more in tune.”

“You’re perfect.” Noir replied automatically. “I don’t… I don’t want to dance with someone else.”

“Oh. Okay.” Peter said softly. The song continued playing away, and they kept moving, until finally, eventually, it came to an end.

Noir didn’t let go of Peter’s hand, keeping it in his grasp.

“Peter.” He hesitated. “I was thinking about dancing with you because I was dancing, but I was thinking of you and I was-”” He cut off his rambling, taking a moment to collect himself and his thoughts. Peter watched him, brown eyes so warm and comforting, completely patient with Noir as he struggled to put words together.

Noir took a breath, then began again. “I was dancing with someone, and I just… I wanted to dance with you, the whole time. I don’t want to dance with anyone else. Just… just you.”

Peter didn’t move or reply, just kept watching Noir with those expressive eyes.

“Peter, if you don’t… if you don’t feel the same way, it’s fine. I can get over it, if you ask me to. I just don’t want to.”

“I don’t want you to get over me.” Peter spoke finally, “I’d be happy to keep dancing. You’re… you’re wonderful, Noir. I think of you, and I… I miss having you around, when you’re gone.”

Whatever Peter was going to continue to say, it was cut off by the sudden, blaring ad coming out of his phone. Peter cursed, regretfully pulling away from Noir to hurry over to the counter, muting it.

“Sorry about that.” Peter said.

“No, it’s alright. I will need to return to my dimension soon. Things to do, Nazis to punch. Unless you want me to stay?”

Peter sighed, picking up Noir’s hat and walking back towards him. “I really, _really_ want you to stay, but unfortunately, I also have some bad guys to take care of.”

Peter turned Noir’s hat around, and then reached up, placing it onto Noir’s head. “So, how about a, ‘See you later’? We can meet up, and we can practice some more then.” Peter let his hands fall from Noir’s hat to his arms, interlocking their fingers.

“Sounds good.” Noir said, a little out of breath.

“Wonderful. I can’t wait.” Peter replied.

“Right.” They stood there for a moment, neither one wanting to move. Finally, it was Noir who pulled away.

“I’ll… I’ll be going now. I’ll… I’ll see you later?”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

Noir opened a portal, stepping through it to his universe. He looked back, seeing the bright reds and blues of Peter’s suit, just before the portal closed after him.

Noir smiled softly to himself, reaching up to feel his, slightly akilter, hat, and his smile grew wider. Then, he stepped back out into his world, adjusting it as he slipped into the flow of people down the city street.

Peter would be coming by later. And his presence always added a little color to Noir’s world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright guys, a couple of you requested a continuation of this fic so... here you go! I had requests from a couple of Anons here, and from best-slash-fic-pls on tumblr. Thank you for your requests! (And sorry for taking so long lol)
> 
> I hope you like this continuation! There are some parallels between the two dances, so I hope you guys enjoyed that.
> 
> If you read this fic and liked it, consider sending me a request on tumblr (same username), or leaving a kudo/comment! Thanks <3


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